


just one more shot at a second chance

by Anonymous



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Pretty much a PWP with some feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We suck at this,” Inkyu says suddenly, collapsing onto the bed and crawling up to Sehyeong’s side. “Would you believe me if I said I forget how any of this worked?”</i>
</p><p><i>“No,” Sehyeong says, even as he welcomes the return to the familiar. He wraps a hand around Inkyu’s wrist and drags it down to his dick. “You’re just a lazy fuck.”</i> </p><p>Because they can't be DanDy and Mata, the ultimate jungle/support duo, without some dysfunction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just one more shot at a second chance

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this was written before the Easyhoon announcement/Mata’s move to RNG, soooo whoops. 
> 
> [DanDy/Mata synergy: because when you have to deal with imp 24/7, you get tired.](http://nimage.dailygame.co.kr/phpwas/restmb_idxmake.php?idx=3&simg=2014082719045335482_20140827190651_1.jpg)

 

Sehyeong has a weak spot for Seungbin.

It’s a common joke—that supports are the mature older brothers to their aggressive, impulsive ADCs, but it’s a strikingly true dynamic for him and Seungbin, at least. He can’t remember a time when Seungbin hasn’t been his frustrating yet adorable little brother, when he hasn’t been forced to apologize for Seungbin’s brashness or talked him down from saying something too stupid.

It’s probably why he finds himself staring at the ceiling of Seungbin’s room at the LGD house right now, dragged out for a night of drinking and talked into four bottles of soju. The world hasn’t stopped spinning for a solid five minutes, but at least he’s past the stage of wanting to vomit.

Cheonju and Hojong are both out, probably in the practice room grinding out solo queue and pretending they aren’t fighting for the rights to the starter position in the next tournament. It’s a shitty and pathetic situation, but it leaves him and Seungbin alone for now, safe from Cheonju’s scolding and overall mother-hen nature.

“So,” Seungbin says into the silence, poking Sehyeong’s hip with a foot. “Have you and Inkyu finally figured out how to work together now that you’re not fucking?”

Sehyeong startles, making a valiant effort to sit up straight, but he only manages to push up enough to lean against one of the beds. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Please, you don’t need lie to me, I’m not even on your team anymore, it’s not like I’m going to rat you out.” Seungbin rolls to his side, propping his face up on his arm. “And I was in the bunk next to you guys—you’re not exactly _quiet_ , did you really think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Well you sleep like the dead,” Sehyeong mutters, face flushing an even brighter red. “And we were teenagers. Whatever.”

Seungbin yawns. “I never even understood why you stopped,” he says sleepily. “You guys definitely played better before.”

“He got a girlfriend.”

“Well I hope the sex is worth it, because he’s been underperforming pretty damn badly.” Seungbin blinks owlishly. “And it’s not that your form is _worse_ , but you two are so out of sync now. But that might also be because he moved top, fuck knows why.”

“It was for the team, our previous top ran away—he’s moving back to jungle next split.” Sehyeong turns away, blocking his face from Seungbin’s gaze by his shoulder. “And they broke up a little after he moved to China.”

Seungbin snorts. “Then there’s nothing stopping you from sucking his dick and seeing if you can finally live up to the challenge I expected from you guys from the beginning.”

“Says the kid who lost to that trash NA team.”

“You can talk to me about that once your team actually makes it to Worlds.” Sehyeong looks over to smile at Seungbin who grins back at him. “Learn some Chinese already, you need to reclaim your throne as the king of nagging.”

“Stop throwing all your matches you overaggressive idiot.” They share a laugh until Sehyeong sighs. “I miss Korea,” he says wistfully. “The food’s better, the internet’s faster, and the language is so much damn easier."

“Too bad the pay’s shit in comparison,” Seungbin says. “Get rich young, retire back there later.”

Sehyeong raises a hand in a vague symbol of solidarity, only to topple over onto the ground. “We sound so pathetic,” he says to the wood flooring. “Did we really hit our peak, just one year ago?”

“Nah,” Seungbin drawls. “Haven’t you read the forums? It’s all our trash teammates’ faults.”

- 

VG is rich, but not quite enough to afford a house where its players get their own rooms. But instead of sharing a room with nine other teammates, Sehyeong only needs to split with Inkyu. And instead of being forced to share a bunk, beds stacked right on top of one another, they’re on opposite ends of the room—a vastness of space between them that Sehyeong finds both uncomfortable yet relieving.

His and Inkyu’s…thing had been borne of series of escalating accidents. So maybe they’d found they’d shared a similar taste in porn—and then one time Sehyeong had been too drunk to climb up to his bed and he’d woken up in the middle of the night and saw Inkyu’s dick, and maybe Inkyu’s hand had accidentally brushed against his dick and that wasn’t so bad and—and one night after four bottles of soju, he’d sucked Inkyu’s dick, which was surprisingly not terrible, and Inkyu had jacked him off and—

And it wasn’t gay. Or serious. They’d found an arrangement that worked, that’s all.

Maybe there was one time when Inkyu had blown him when he hadn’t closed his eyes and imagined a female idol, when he’d made accidental eye contact and couldn’t look away and it was weirdly intimate and all types of awkward and uncomfortable when he’d come unexpectedly quickly. So maybe he’d appreciated the fucked out look on Inkyu’s face, the slight smear of white on his lips.

It didn’t matter—they won Worlds, Inkyu got a girlfriend, and they’d stopped.

Sehyeong knows he’s not the most attractive guy, especially when compared to some of his teammates (he’d been voted into the _Manly 5_ shit at All Stars, he gets it). Sure, he’d somehow gained quite the large following with his humor and trolling antics, but finding a girlfriend?

Ha, fuck that.

He’s young and he has plenty of time to find a girl in the future, when he actually has the freedom to spend the money he’s earned. For now, he’ll leave the girl mongering to his friends.

Inkyu has a good face, though, and a nice smile when he tries to be charming. So Sehyeong wasn’t surprised when Inkyu got a girlfriend, took it in stride when Inkyu awkwardly mentioned stopping their trysts. They returned to sleeping in their individual beds and Sehyeong started jacking off in the shower again.

It was a return to normal.

-

But now they’re in China, and nothing is normal.

Sehyeong can’t ignore it, not even if he avoids going outside, because his solo queue is a mass of strange symbols and the voices in his ears are unfamiliar. His teammates don’t understand him and his Chinese classes transport him back to elementary school, when he still struggled with the alphabet and reading even the most simple of characters was a struggle.

Inkyu is the one familiar constant, even as the space between them is uncomfortably stiff, fraught with a different kind of tension.

-

Cheonju eventually comes back to the room a few hours later, lecturing them even as he helps Seungbin into bed and walks Sehyeong across the street to the VG house. And now, safely ensconced in bed, he can’t help but remember Seungbin’s words as they play like a broken record in his head. It’d be easy enough to initiate their trysts again, to just slip into Inkyu’s bed and suck his dick. With a room all to themselves and their teammates still leaving them a wide berth, there’s really nothing stopping them—just the gap between their beds and the awkward stillness in their silences.

“Hey,” he says, watching as Inkyu, back from his own night of drinking, haphazardly throws his shirt into the closet. He waits until Inkyu turns to face him before he continues. “Do you remember when we used to—” He stops, unable to say the words even with liquid courage igniting his veins.

“Uh,” Inkyu says slowly, tilts his head to the side. “Do you mean?”

Sehyeong blinks, wonders if they could possibly be thinking of the same thing and laughs when Inkyu makes a deliberate show of looking down at his dick.

“Yeah,” Sehyeong says dumbly. His ears are burning and he can’t believe he actually just brought this up. “Uh, well. Just—checking.”

“Oh,” Inkyu says. Sehyeong carefully avoids looking anywhere near Inkyu’s face, finding a nice spot on the ground to focus on instead. “Well, um. It wasn’t bad.”

“Yeah,” Sehyeong repeats faintly. “Let’s just pretend I didn’t bring this up.”

There’s another beat of silence, before he feels a hand on his face, gently nudging him to look back up at Inkyu, whose eyes are surprisingly clear. “No,” Inkyu says. “I don’t know if we should.”

Sehyeong feels frozen, held in place by the hand on his face as Inkyu’s head moves closer. “Oh,” he says, and then he feels Inkyu’s mouth on his own.

The kissing is new, but the hand against the fly of his jeans isn’t, and he quickly fumbles to undo Inkyu’s pants as well. There’s a thing to be said about the manual dexterity of pro-gamers, but he’s really fucking drunk, so it takes him a few tries to unbutton Inkyu’s jeans.

Inkyu doesn’t seem too satisfied with his pace, because he finds himself shoved back onto the bed, staring up as Inkyu pulls off his pants and underwear and throws them behind him to somewhere unseen. And—and it’s not like Sehyeong hasn’t seen Inkyu naked before—none of them had cared all that much about modesty back in Samsung—but it feels weirdly different this time, like there’s a new layer of intimacy and complexity clouding the air.

He makes the mistake of looking Inkyu in the eye, and they stay stuck like that, with Sehyeong trying to ignore the dick in front of his face or how fucking hard his own dick is in his pants.

“We suck at this,” Inkyu says suddenly, collapsing onto the bed and crawling up to Sehyeong’s side. “Would you believe me if I said I forget how we did this?”

“No,” Sehyeong says, even as he welcomes the return to the familiar. He wraps a hand around Inkyu’s wrist and drags it down to his dick. “You’re just a lazy fuck.”

Inkyu smiles at him, stupidly cheeky. “Only because you’re so pushy.” But he does finally take Sehyeong’s dick in hand, leans forward to press another kiss against Sehyeong’s lips, presses them close enough that Sehyeong can feel Inkyu’s dick against his thigh.

They’d never kissed back in Korea—it’d always seemed a little, well, _gay_ —but Sehyeong’s drunk enough to dismiss the gesture. It already happened once, anyway, a second or third isn’t going to change their dynamic, so he lets Inkyu push his tongue into his mouth, brings a hand down so they can rub off against each other, lets the burn of arousal spark through his blood.

And it’s only now, in the heat of the moment when he’s about to get off with someone else’s—with _Inkyu’s_ —hand around his dick that he can finally admit to himself that he’s missed this. He’s missed the feeling of Inkyu next to him, with his shitty banter and the way he squeezes a little too tight when Sehyeong brings him close. It’s not intimate or romantic; it’s comfortable, like coming back to a routine when everything around them is so damn foreign.

Inkyu pushes with his hips, and their dicks brush against each other, sliding together in a way that only gets Sehyeong hotter, even when he knows how close to skirting the barrier of gay they’re getting. But he doesn’t think about that, just focuses on the way Inkyu pants in his ear, on how fucking _good_ Inkyu’s hand feels around his dick, on the way Inkyu twists his fingers in a way that has Sehyeong seeing stars, until he’s the one that leans in to kiss Inkyu as he comes, the coiled mess of arousal in his stomach finally releasing into a smooth flow of pleasure.

He keeps his own hand curled, distantly feels Inkyu push into his grip until he feels something wet against his abdomen, an echo of the dampness in his pants. Fuck, he’s still wearing pants.

He groans, regretting everything and hoping no one checks his laundry too closely when he makes the inevitable trip in the morning. He pulls back a little to find that Inkyu hasn’t closed his eyes, has continued to look at Sehyeong as he blinks himself awake.

“Come on, let’s move. I feel gross already.” Inkyu uses the sheets to wipe off their stomachs, motioning toward the other bed with his head. “We can clean up in the morning.”

Sehyeong tugs off his pants, managing to trip over a luggage case on his way to join Inkyu on his bed. “You’re coming down with me to clean this shit up,” he mumbles, curling up against Inkyu’s warm form. “No ditching the chores with me again.”

“Yeah, okay.” Inkyu wraps an arm around him. “We'll keep this up until you get a girlfriend this time,” he adds with a smirk, altogether too pleased and smug. “If you ever manage to finally land one.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sehyeong says, elbowing Inkyu in the side while Inkyu’s eyes crinkle up as he laughs.

And maybe _this_ is their normal: nothing gay, nothing serious, just an easy, relaxing way to end a day.

**Author's Note:**

> So this hot mess of a thing was inspired by a snippet from this Rekkles/Deft/imp love triangle fic I was writing but don’t think I’ll ever finish. 
> 
> Title taken from Sorry, so yes, I have terrible taste in music. But JB's new album is addicting.


End file.
